Nuclear Winter Soldier
by Blindluck92
Summary: Nathaniel "Nate" Reese wasn't just any soldier at Anchorage. He was THE soldier at Anchorage. The man who personally killed General Jingwei, considered by many to be the most dangerous soldier in the history of war, is now the Sole Survivor of Vault 111. He wants his son back, and nothing will stand in his way. One-shot series. Updates will be random at best. Review please.
1. Army of 111

**For those of you who know me, I am** _ **soooo**_ **sorry that I've gone so long without posting another chapter of** _ **One Way Flight**_ **. I apologize for that, truly, but grad school is a royal pain in my ass, to say nothing of all the other crap that's been going on. I haven't abandoned that story, don't worry. I just needed to get this idea out of my head ASAP because… well because this is a bloody awesome idea with enormous potential. It's not a crossover or a multiverse fic. Just straight-up Fallout the way we all love it.**

 **Now for those of you who** _ **don't**_ **know me… you have nothing to worry about. Like I already said, this isn't a part of my multiverse series. It's a one-shot that may someday become more if it's well-received. That said, you guys are more than welcome to read my other stuff, but it's nothing like this at all.**

 **With introduction and apologies out of the way, let's get this going. On with the show!**

 **Summary: Nathaniel "Nate" Reese wasn't just any soldier at Anchorage. He was THE soldier at Anchorage. The man who killed General Jingwei is now the Sole Survivor of Vault 111. And he is very, very angry.**

 **Spoilers: Operation Anchorage and Fallout 4**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing. *turns around and yells* Now get your lawyer out of my house Bethesda!**

Nuclear Winter Soldier

The Raiders at Corvega were riding on the high of chems and victory after their third caravan raid in the past month. Better still, there was talk of a fourth group coming through in a few days! This was just too good!

"Hahaha! Jackpot!" a scum yelled as he took another hit of psycho. "They just keep coming!"

One of the veterans laughed while sharpening her knife. "Heard that the next caravan has a guy with a cool hat or some shit. Boss wants it something bad."

"Damn," whined another of the chem-addled scums. "I want a hat!"

"You have a gas mask, you little shit!" the veteran yelled back. "What are you bitchin about?"

The scum opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by the sound of muffled gunshots coming from outside.

"The fuckin' hell was that?" someone asked. Nobody knew who and the strung-out psychopaths didn't care enough to answer. Instead the Raiders grabbed their guns and started sweeping for intruders. Whoever was stupid enough to come onto their turf, they'd hunt 'em down and kill 'em.

 _Just one problem…_

BANG

A single well-placed shot blew the head clean off a scum.

BA-BANG

Two more shots. Two more dead Raiders.

 _They weren't doing the hunting._

More shots, always from a different position and always fatal.

 _Someone – some_ _ **thing**_ _– was hunting_ _ **them**_ _._

 _BARK-BARK!_

And it was very.

 _BANG… BANG._

Very.

 _SCHLUK_

 **Angry.**

 _SNAP_

In less than ten minutes practically every Raider was dead. Mostly headshots. Some had their necks snapped. Others had their throats slit… or ripped out by that dog. Yes, there had been a dog… always prowling around until its devil of a master gave a shrill whistle. Then the beast would jump in, scatter their ranks, and dash away before anyone knew what had happened.

"What the fuck are you?!" Jared screamed at the killer he couldn't see. He'd gone from the boss of the Raiders at Corvega to the last one still alive. "I know you're in here somewhere." No response. "If you're so damn tough, why keep hiding like a bitch?!"

Jared heard that damn dog growling behind him and spun around to put the mutt down. Instead he was met with a fist to the face. As Jared recoiled, the mysterious killer grabbed him by his dominant arm and snapped it like a twig. Now with a broken nose, broken arm, and no hope of fighting back, the Raider boss just looked up at the nightmare that had slaughtered his entire gang.

Just over six feet tall, piercing icy-blue eyes, and a scar across the left cheek. Like he'd been sliced by a sword. He was well-built, not bulky like the raider psychos he'd just finished butchering, but solid and definitely strong. His armor was a clearly customized set of leather and metal for the perfect combination of flexibility and protection. And on his left arm…

There was a Pip-Boy. Oh shit, not another one!

"You heroes just don't get it, do you?!" Jared yelled. The man still remained silent. "How many times have you pricks kept showing up, huh? West Coast, East Coast, it don't mean shit! You keep crawling outta your vaults and no-name homes with big dreams of 'saving the Wasteland' with those little bracelets on your arm. But no matter what you do, there will always be more Raiders. Always! Hahaha-argh!"

Jared's ranting was brought to a painful halt when the "hero" grabbed him by the throat and picked him up off the ground as if he didn't weigh a damn thing. The "hero" glared at Jared before dropping him on the floor once more. Then, finally, he spoke.

"I saved this world once already. Two hundred years ago."

"What are you… talking about?" Jared choked out, clutching his throat with his good hand.

"But I ain't here for the world anymore," the man continued, as if Jared had never spoken. He reached into the satchel on his back and pulled out a can of turpentine. As he emptied its contents all over the Raider boss, he spoke again. "Just here for one person."

Jared's eyes widened in fear. Turpentine was flammable, and he was now soaked in it. "Then why-"

"And until I find him, I'm gonna kill every bastard that gets in my way." He pulled out a zippo, tossed it at Jared and walked away.

"AAAAAIIIIEEEEEEE!"

The Sole Survivor left the blood-soaked Corvega factory with Dogmeat at his side. War never changes, he thought. Even in this hell, everyone's fighting and clawing for scraps, just like before.

Nathaniel "Nate" Reese wasn't just any veteran. He was the veteran that killed General Jingwei with the bastard's own shock-sword. Before that, he'd led countless strikes against the Chinese in Alaska, killing them by the dozens. If he was willing to butcher the enemies of his country, what would he do to the enemies of his family?

All of Boston would soon find out…

 **Yes, I am fully aware that General Constantine Chase was delusional when he came up with the Operation: Anchorage simulation. That said, the male Sole Survivor was an American soldier in Alaska, so this is just a "what if" scenario where that simulation in Fallout 3 was actually the story of the male Sole Survivor before the bombs fell.**

 _ **If anyone wants to take this and roll with it, or if you want me to continue this with more one-shots, just say the word! I only wanted to get this crazy idea out of my head and onto the internet so I could get back to working on One Way Flight**_

 **And I promise to all my readers that I'll have that next chapter of** _ **One Way Flight**_ **for you… relatively soon. I swear I'm doing my best here, but reality doesn't want to cooperate. Until then, you know the drill:**

 **Read, Review, and Enjoy!**

 **Just don't talk about about** _ **One Way Flight**_ **in your reviews here! I've got a PM inbox for that.**


	2. Story of the Century

**Blindluck92 here. This story wasn't really supposed to amount to anything, but apparently a lot of you want more. At least I assume you want more. The only reviews I got for it were positive, and I've been getting new followers both for me and for this story almost daily since I posted it. So I figure, what the hell? I'll feed you guys another one-shot until my multiverse muse returns (which will hopefully be before 2016).**

 **Also, I want to make it absolutely clear that this is not a "god mode" story with an inexplicably perfect protagonist. Nathaniel Reese isn't good at everything. He's just really, _really_ good at war.  
**

 **Now that that's out of the way, on with the story!**

 **Standard spoiler and disclaimer policies apply. I don't own the Fallout franchise, nor is any shout-out to Captain America meant as copyright infringement. And while a certain protagonist might occasionally channel Liam Neeson's character from** _ **Taken**_ **, I don't own that either.**

* * *

The Man out of Time

 _Commonwealth: 2287_

 _Sanctuary Hills_

"When I asked for your life story, I was thinking more along the lines of an interview," Piper said. "Not a hiking trip to the edge of the Commonwealth."

"Don't worry," Blue replied. "We're almost there."

"Almost _where_?" Piper asked automatically. When she actually bothered to look, though, the answer was obvious. It was a small, pre-War town, or at least the shattered remains of one. The houses were all either in shambles or completely destroyed. The only sign of "life" was a Mister Handy unit keeping watch over the wreckage of a single home. When it saw them, it gave Blue the robotic equivalent of a wave and welcomed him with a thick British accent.

"Mister Nathaniel!" it greeted warmly. "Good to see you've returned safely, sir!"

Blue gave the robot a sad smile. "Hey Codsworth."

Strange, Piper thought. Why was a Mister Handy in the middle of nowhere treating Blue like an old friend and calling him-

Oh. Oh _crap_.

"You lived here." The realization his Piper like a mini nuke. "You lived here _before the War."_

Blue – no, _Nathaniel_ smirked at her. "Got it in one," he said before rolling up his left sleeve past the shoulder to reveal a glorious tattoo of pre-War America's iconic eagle. Its wings were outstretched, beak open in the middle of a furious cry. The eagle's left wing had _Freedom_ inked on it in Gothic script, with _Family_ on the right wing. The left talon was clutching a pair of dog tags, the right firmly holding onto an R91 Assault Rifle. A final word was inked inside of a banner beneath the eagle: _Winterized_

"Master Sergeant Nathaniel Reese," the man declared proudly. "United States Army."

"You're a pre-War _soldier_?" Piper laughed, not in disbelief but rather excitement. "Oh my god this is awesome! 'The Man Out of Time.'" Nathaniel rolled his eyes at the title, but said nothing as Piper continued to laugh. Eventually she calmed down and gestured to the walking anachronism in front of her. "How is something like this even possible?"

His pride quickly turned to sorrow. "Follow me," he said. Eager for more details, Piper followed _Nathaniel_ without question. Personally, she preferred Blue.

Her thoughts were interrupted when he came to a stop at the top of a hill. Except it _wasn't_ a hill. It was a door. The door to Vault 111. And they were going down. Piper took advantage of the slow elevator ride to start asking questions.

"So you've seen the Commonwealth. Diamond City. How does it compare to your old life?"

In a flash, Blue was glaring straight at Piper, and she could practically _feel_ the raw emotion coming off of him in waves. Gone was the calm and quiet man she'd met outside of Diamond City, replaced now by a traumatized and tired war veteran.

"My 'old' life was my _only_ life less than a week ago," he growled. "How does it _compare_?" His anger slowly gave way to heart-wrenching grief, loss, and pain. "Fenway Park, home of the Boston Red Sox, has been reduced to Diamond City, the shanty town. The Green Monstah is now the green _jewel_. Insane gangs, walking corpses, and giant, green-orange freaks have turned 'rape, pillage, and burn' into a way of life. Two days ago, I was almost gutted by a lizard bigger than my house, and as you could clearly see, said house is now a pile of _splinters_."

"Blue…" Piper murmured softly, but the soldier wasn't done yet.

At this point, Blue was fighting back tears. He refused to cry. Not yet anyway, and certainly not in front of a reporter he'd only just met. "I went to war, fought and goddamn _bled_ alongside every last man and woman in the Army. All so that this wouldn't happen to America. I thought we'd succeeded. I was wrong. This Wasteland is proof that we failed. That _I_ failed. My brothers in arms died for _nothing_ at Anchorage! I couldn't protect my country, and I couldn't protect…" he trailed off and sighed. "Well, you'll see _that_ soon enough."

Piper wasn't sure she wanted to see, but she'd already come this far. Besides, she asked for Blue's story in the first place, and despite the fresh emotional pain, he was still willing to show it to her.

No, she had to see this through. For her paper, _and_ for Blue.

The elevator finally slowed to a stop, having reached the bottom. Blue got off and walked into the bowels of Vault 111 with Piper close behind. They stopped briefly at the Overseer's office for Blue to open a wall safe. He wasn't that great at picking locks…

 _BANG_

But he could jury-rig a satchel charge from junk he'd bought in Diamond City with remarkable ease. The explosion was just strong enough to breach the safe without damaging the contents inside. Grabbing the strange looking weapon, Blue was on the move again. And this time, he didn't stop or say a single word until they reached their destination.

A room full of cryogenic stasis pods. Meant to keep people frozen in time underground as the world above went to complete hell. Something obviously went wrong. With the obvious exception of Blue's pod, they were all closed, and the occupants were all dead inside. But Blue… _Nathaniel_ didn't seem to care about his pod. His sole concern was the one across from his. Flipping a switch on the control panel, he released the locks and opened the pod door. It hissed from the temperature differential and slid back to reveal a woman. Unlike the others, she hadn't died from a mere system failure.

She had been shot. _Killed_.

Piper gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth in horror. "Is that…" she choked, "is that who I _think_ it is?"

"Nora Reese," Nathaniel confirmed, voice utterly broken. "Lawyer, wife… and mother."

" _Mother_?" Piper echoed in shock. "You mean you…?"

Nathaniel nodded. "A son, Shaun. Not even a year old. When we were frozen down here, Nora was holding him tight. Then someone thawed her out and tried to take Shaun, but Nora wouldn't let him go." His eyes were brimming with unshed tears. "I watched _helplessly_ as that bastard killed my wife and kidnapped my son." For a while, he became very quiet, then he sighed and reactivated Nora's pod. The door closed, freezing her and preserving the memory of a life he'd all but lost.

"You okay?" Piper asked, wincing at her own words. "Sorry, stupid question."

"It's fine," Nathaniel assured her. "Thought that counts anyway." He kneeled before the door, and Piper suddenly felt like even the freedom of the press didn't give her the right to be here.

"If you need to be alone, I-" she was cut off when Nathaniel started speaking again.

"Before I left the Vault, I made a vow right here," he said. "If you write nothing else about me in your paper, write _this_."

Piper took out a small notepad and a pen still capable of producing ink. "I'll quote it verbatim," she promised.

"The man who destroyed my family made the mistake of looking me in the eye and letting me live instead of killing me when he had the chance." The words flowed like a mantra he'd recited a thousand times. "He won't get second one. I will _find_ him. I will _kill_ him. And I will get. _Shaun_. _**Back**_."

The way Nathaniel said it, Piper believed him completely. "You make it sound like a declaration of war," she commented.

"Against all enemies, foreign and domestic," he recited. Then he smirked ever-so-slightly. "I'm a soldier, Piper, and a damn good one. War is literally my job."

"Soldier…" Piper repeated the word out loud. Suddenly smiling, the reporter quickly scribbled a few more words onto her notepad before putting it back in her trench coat pocket. Then she gently placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Ready to get outta here, Blue?" She wouldn't call him Nathaniel. That's the man he _was_. The man she'd write the paper about. As far as she was concerned, the name of the man he is _now_ , the name of her _friend_ , is Blue.

He took a deep, calming breath before nodding. "Yeah," he sighed, more relaxed than she'd heard him sound in hours. "Let's hit the road." Piper helped _Blue_ up, and together they walked out of Vault 111. On the elevator ride up, she couldn't help but mention one last thing.

"Thought you'd want to know, I came up with a better name than, 'The Man Out of Time' for your story."

Blue raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? And what might that be?"

Piper chuckled and pulled out her notepad, handing it to him. When he saw what was written on it, the Sole Survivor couldn't help but smile.

"Not bad."

* * *

 _One Week later:_

"Extra! Extra!" Nat yelled in the middle of Diamond City. "Read all about it!" Piper's little sister was selling the latest edition of Publick Occurrences, as usual. It was an extra special three-part edition though:

 _"The Nuclear Winter Soldier, by Piper Wright"_

* * *

 **Piper has her story, and our Sole Survivor now has character depth. I'm stopping here for now, and while I'm definitely going to post more in the future, I honestly have no idea when that will be. This is not my primary story, but it's refreshing and quite fun to write, so I'll keep doing it from time to time. For now, though, I'd be ever so grateful if you would...  
**

 **Read, Review, and Enjoy!**


	3. In the Zone

***Crawls out of grave…* I'm back! *Dodges bullet, two lasers, and a mini nuke* Yow! Okay, I deserved that one, I'll admit it. It's been months since I've posted anything, so I can understand everyone's frustration.**

 **To all fans of** _ **Supernovas of Mass Effect**_ **, I want you to know that the next chapter of** _ **One Way Flight**_ **is coming. It's just taking a long-ass time because I'm having some… let's just call it "difficulties" and leave it at that. I also had a nasty case of bronchitis a while back during the Spring Semester, and that only made my delays worse, so real fun times all around. The new chapter will come, but I won't make any promises on when.  
 _ALSO: Please do not write reviews for Supernovas of Mass Effect on this story. This is a stand-alone with no connection to my Supernovas Saga. Keep them separate okay?_ _I would really appreciate it. Thank you,_ _Blindluck92 out._ \- ****AUGUST 11, 2016**

 **Now to all fans of** _ **this**_ **story, I've got a shiny new chapter for your reading pleasure. Not very long, and I probably should have used this time to work on** _ **One Way Flight**_ **, but I was struck with equal parts boredom and inspiration. Hope you like it.**

 **Oh, and I'd like to take a moment to offer a** _ **huge**_ **thank you to Powerslammer for aiding me with the fight scene in this chapter. Much obliged, my friend!**

 **And now, the guest reviews:**

 **EG: Glad you like it. Sorry there isn't more substance to this chapter, but there'll be more to dig into as the story picks up speed and gets further into the actual plot.**

 **Iamleath: Your hopes that I continue have come true. Sorry it took so long, but I'm enjoying this story, so more should come… eventually.**

 **Summary: Nathaniel Reese steps into the Combat Zone for the first time in over two hundred years. He's still undefeated.**

 **Spoilers: Fallout 4, of course. There's also a couple references to other media, but nothing with spoilers.**

 **Disclaimer: My long silence included (among other things) an attempt to own Fallout and other video game franchises. Obviously it failed, because I still don't own a damn thing.**

* * *

In the Zone

 _Commonwealth, 2287  
Sanctuary Hills_

Nathaniel Reese already had mixed feelings about these "Minutemen" walking around Sanctuary like they owned the place. Yes, it was exactly the kind of save haven they needed, exactly when they needed it, but it was also _his_ _home_! Now these interlopers trampled on his past while waxing poetic about building a better future. Had they no respect for the dead at all?

And speaking of building things…

"Come on!" Sturges whined as he followed Nathaniel. "We gotta make some beds if we wanna live here! Crops and water too! And maybe a few defenses so we're safe from raiders!"

"Are your arms broken?" Nathaniel asked, pinching a hand over the bridge of his nose.

Sturges frowned. "Uh, no."

"What about the Longs? Are their arms broken?"

"No, but why-"

"Then I suggest you quit sitting with your thumb up your ass and do it yourself! You're a community now. Start acting like one." Nathaniel yelled. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go hunt down the man that _murdered_ _my_ _wife_ _and_ _kidnapped_ _my_ _son_!"

"Great!" Marcy Long complained. "Thanks for nothing asshole!"

Nathaniel whirled around and snarled at Marcy. "Look ten meters that way, you'll notice you still have your husband. I have _nothing_. My family and my country are both _gone_! I give you a safe place to live, yet you continue to bitch at anyone within earshot. Final warning: show some fucking respect for once in your miserable life, or I'll evict you from Sanctuary Hills in a body bag!"

Grabbing his Army duffel, Nathaniel stepped into the remains of his former home and walked directly into his destroyed bedroom. The lead-lined floor safe he'd installed for emergencies was exposed, but unopened. Emergencies like, say, the end of the fucking world?

Inside this safe was _real_ hardware. Untouched in over two hundred years, it was all customized to Nathaniel's personal – and extremely lethal – preferences. Suppressed Russian Makarov pistol with a hair trigger and a quick-eject magazine, modified to hold and shoot standard 9mm rounds. Actual combat armor that _hadn't_ been salvaged twenty times by Raiders and scavengers. Anchorage-issue R-91w "Winterized" Assault Rifle. Schematics to build his own version of the Gauss rifle he'd used at Anchorage as well. Frag mines, field rations, fresh water, reserve ammunition, stealth boys, stimpacks, and of course, _duct tape_. Pretty much everything a soldier could possibly need to kick the apocalypse in the teeth had been secured inside this safe. Waiting for its master to return and unleash hell upon his enemies once more.

Nathaniel placed the Gauss rifle schematics, rations, water, stimpacks, and the other essential supplies into the duffle and donned his combat armor for the first time in over two centuries. Slinging the duffle across his back and the assault rifle's strap over his shoulder, Nathaniel was about to lock the safe back up when a final, familiar item inside caught his attention. "Almost forgot about you, old friend," he said with a faint smirk, reaching into the safe one more time before locking it up and hiding it away from the sight of any potential scavengers.

As he stepped out of his centuries-destroyed home, Nathaniel Reese gave Codsworth orders to kill anyone who set foot on what was left of the property. That patch of land belonged to the Reese Family, namely himself. Trespassers would be neither tolerated nor spared. While not overly fond of his master's aggression, Codsworth would carry the order to the letter. He knew Mister Reese could be… _brutal_ , but he also knew that such brutality was born of his intense love for kin and country.

"Not to worry Sir!" the robotic butler called out. "I'll keep the place in order while you find little Shaun!" Nathaniel's features softened for a moment, and he gave Codsworth a smile and a nod. Then he whistled for Dogmeat and set off for the radioactive ruins of downtown Boston.

* * *

 _Two Days Later  
Downtown Boston _

Dogmeat barked wildly as Nathaniel kept close behind. Obviously his canine companion wanted him to see something, but what?

He filed away the "what" for now – as well as the "why" because the damn German Shepherd was just that smart – away and simply allowed Dogmeat to lead him into the old Theater District. Also known as the Combat Zone back in the day, this had been the Red Light District of Boston. Though now it seemed the "combat" part of its name was meant quite literally. There was a time when Nathaniel would come here for some fun. That was before he met his wife Nora, of course. She changed his whole life.

Now she was dead, and his life had changed again. Not for the better this time in Nathaniel's opinion.

Shaking the thought from his mind before it could take root, Nathaniel looked around for Dogmeat. Following the sounds of barking and Raiders getting their throats torn out, the soldier found the dog outside of Orpheum Theater… or what was left of it anyway. Like everything else in Boston, the place was a hollowed out husk of its former self. Dogmeat had already killed the Raiders outside and was sitting right outside the door with his tongue flopping out of his mouth, blood still dripping from his teeth. He barked at his human.

"What, you want me to go inside?" Nathaniel asked. Dogmeat barked again, an affirmative, eliciting a groan from the Devil of Anchorage. "Oh, come on! According to his secretary, Valentine's last known location is the _other_ way. Don't get me sidetracked again." Dogmeat cocked his head to the side and gave the canine equivalent of a raised eyebrow. "Why? Oh, I don't know. Maybe because last time you took point, I almost got killed by a giant yellow-green freak running at me with a mini-nuke like this world's worst game of Football?" Dogmeat turned around and began to paw at the door. "Ugh, fine! But don't make me regret this."

Dogmeat panted and wagged his tail happily. The soldier chuckled and shook his head, unable to stay mad at the dog for long.

"Alright boy," Nathaniel said. "Let's go fuck some shit up." Drawing his Makarov and tactical knife for simultaneous use, he kicked down the door.

* * *

 _Combat Zone: Arena_

Tommy sighed. Cait should've won easily by now. The fact that she hadn't already won was just more proof that her psycho addiction was making her sloppy. It wouldn't be today, and it probably wouldn't be tomorrow, but sooner or later, Cait's reign as Combat Zone champion would come to a bloody end.

 _WHAM_

Definitely not today though. Not after Cait just smashed the Raider's face into the floor like that. His little red-haired bird planted a boot on the still-warm corpse and raised her fists to the crowd. They cheered despite her victory because it was still a brutal fight, just the way they liked it. Sighing again, Tommy got back to his job. Hell, the door was already opening for the next contestant. He'd hoped Cait would at least get a small (non-addictive) breather in between rounds, but not when the damn Raiders were so eager to run in and get their asses kicked by his little bird.

"And who's this?!" Tommy called out loudly as the figure approached. Woah, hold up? There was something familiar about the man, but the Southie ghoul couldn't quite place it…

Until the spotlights shone down to reveal one Nathaniel fucking Reese. Tommy's jaw hit the floor. "Nate?! Son of a…" shock quickly gave way to fear, not for his old friend but for the Raiders keeping Tommy in business. "Crazy asshole! I don't know how you're still alive, but find cover quick if you wanna stay that way!"

Cait wiped the sweat off her brow and looked at her employer curiously. "What're you goin' on about now Tommy? You know that man?"

Tommy nodded grimly. "That ain't a man, little bird. That's a monster, a _devil_ , and he's about to kill every Raider in the room." He pointed at the very empty space where Nate had just been standing.

Cait found it difficult to believe Tommy's words, more so than usual. Sure, the man looked tougher than most guys who stepped into the ring with her, but killing every Raider in here? That's kind of stretching it. Maybe he could take down a few, but against their numbers, the so-called "devil" was as good as dead.

"Come on, guys! Let's rip this guy to shreds!" A Raider shouted.

"Gonna fuckin' tear you apart!" Another growled.

"A dozen of you assholes against _me_? Hardly seems fair." Nate realized, taking his Makarov pistol out and placed it on a nearby table. "I'll just set this right here. Even things out a little bit."

"I'd pick that gun up if I were you, punk-ass motherfucker!" A scarred Raider screamed while he charged his enemy down, swinging a chainsaw around like a maniac. He was going to cut the cocky little bastard right down the middle.

Nathaniel stepped to the side, grabbed the Raider by the throat, and ripped his trachea out of his neck in one deft move. The Raider dropped his weapon and clutched at his neck, gargling a painful scream as blood and air spurted out of the new hole Nathaniel gave him.

"Son of a bitch!" Another one cursed from one of the rafters. He had an old fashioned, poorly maintained Winchester Repeater, and his outburst gave away his position. Nathaniel picked up an eight ball off a pool table and threw it like a splitfinger fastball right at the gunman. The speed and force of the throw lodged the eight ball right into his forehead, crushing his brain.

Four more Raiders charged at Nathaniel, armed with bats, makeshift axes, golf clubs, and even a pool cue. They were like snarling dogs; all anger and no discipline, thinking their numbers guaranteed them victory. This was exactly what Nate's sensei trained him for all those years ago, and that was _before_ he joined the Army. He'd killed far worse, and he'd been doing it since long before these pathetic condom-failures were even an itch their daddies' pants. This wasn't even an exercise for him, but he might as well have some fun since, hey, the damn dog brought him here after all. Nathaniel pulled out the "old friend" he'd retrieved from the safe in his home:

A tanto dagger that his sensei gifted to him before Nate left for the Army. A sharp and deadly extension of Nathaniel's own will.

The first one to come at him was the guy with the golf club, swinging at Nate with full force. Nate easily intercepted the wild swing and caught the club, then he flipped the Raider over his shoulder and onto the pool table he'd taken the eight ball from. Nate brought the tanto down, stabbed the man in his brainstem and twisted.

The one with the axe, a big bruiser with thick arms and a gut like a keg, came in at Nate's side and took a swing at his head, looking to decapitate him. Nathaniel spun beneath the axe and slashed his razor-sharp dagger across his attacker's midsection. The man's intestines and stomach spilled out of his oversized gut like a sack full of rancid worms all over the floor. He fell back screaming in awful agony, and vainly tried to put his own guts back inside himself.

The one with the bat tried to attack Nate from behind, but unlike the soldier, he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and accidentally caught his foot in his fellow Raider's intestines. He slipped and slid on the floor, pulling more of the other guy's guts out of his body in the process, then fell flat on his back. Nate stomped his foot down on the man's throat and broke his neck like a twig.

Nate's trained and experienced sense of hearing picked up the all-too-familiar sound of a rifle being cocked. With no time to look, Nate dove to the ground to avoid the gunshots being fired at him, slid on the axe-man's blood and guts behind another pool table, then flipped it over for cover. He took a quick peek over the table and caught site of yet another Raider, this one carrying an antiquated Mosin Nagant rifle. How it survived the war and years of wear and misuse was a complete mystery, but there was no way an untrained savage could fire a bolt-action rifle like that in rapid fire succession. He waited for the next shot, and as soon as he heard the bullet fire, Nate threw his tanto across the room with astounding speed and nailed the rifleman square in the eye.

There was still a few of the Raiders left, and after watching their buddies get killed, they wanted payback. Nate was going to have to kill them all, but first, he was going to go get his dagger back.

Cait couldn't believe what she was seeing, even as it was happening before her own damned eyes. When she saw him put his gun down, Cait thought the man was suicidal, but she couldn't have been more wrong. With nothing but a knife, the stranger had taken out more than half the Raiders that were stinking up the place. Then after he threw his knife into a Raider gunman's head, he started taking them apart with his bare hands, using some style she didn't even know existed.

He ripped them apart like they were nothing, and strolled through the joint with about as much effort as a walk in the park would take. Like these guys were _nothing_ to him. It was so strange to watch. Somehow he intercepted, evaded and redirected all their attacks, their assaults just sliding off him like rain. Then he snapped their bones, necks and bodies just by grabbing and twisting them as soon as an opening appeared.

" _What the hell kinda fightin' is that?"_ she wondered to herself. Tommy was right. This guy was a fucking monster.

Nate snapped another Raider's neck in his hands, then finally pulled his tanto out of the dead guy's skull. He was going to have to clean it thoroughly later. The blade hadn't seen use in over a century and probably needed maintenance. There was still a couple more Raiders to kill, but now he was bored.

"Come on! Get some, motherfucker!" One of the remaining Raiders snarled. Those were her last words before a bullet went straight into her mouth and blew the back of her head off.

Seeing the stranger had finally picked up a gun, the Mosin Nagant from the Raider he'd thrown his knife at earlier, and that he was damned good shot, the rest of the Raiders tried to run. They didn't get very far though, because unlike the rifle's previous owner, Nathaniel actually _could_ shoot a bolt action rifle in rapid fire succession. When there was only one Raider left alive, the junkie dropped his weapon and got on his knees.

"Please! Please, show some mercy. I'll never raid again, long's I live!" The man begged.

Nathaniel looked at the guy with a disgusted expression on his face, but lowered the rifle.

"Y-you'll let me go?" The Raider asked hopefully.

"Fuck no. I'm just out of bullets." Nate bashed the Raider's face with the buttstock, then he started smashing the man's brains all over the grimy floor until there was nothing left but a wet, red mass with bits of skull and teeth where the guy's head used to be.

Cait licked her lips, glad as all hell that this Nate character hadn't stepped into the ring. She loved a good fight, absolutely loved it, but this guy… he didn't fight. Not like she did, or hell, not like anyone in the Commonwealth did. "Fighting" was two people wailing on each other, or taking shots from cover until one side stuck their head out at the wrong time and got it blown clean off.

No, this man didn't fight people. He _killed_ them.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a slow, mildly-sarcastic clap. Oh good, so Tommy managed to keep his arse alive. Not all that surprising with the whole damned room too busy getting killed by one man, she supposed.

"Nathaniel fuckin' Reese, as I live and breathe," Tommy announced, working the crowd even as their corpses were bleeding all over the establishment.

"Tommy," the man called Nathaniel said in reply, dropping the Mosin Nagant and walking over to the ghoul, giving him a quick once-over. "You look like hammered shit."

There was a hint of nostalgia as Tommy barked out a laugh. "Yeah, Armageddon will do that to ya! But enough about me, look at you! Should've known it'd take more than the Bombs to kill your ass. You survived everything else the Chinese threw at you, why would their nukes be any different?" Tommy sobered up quick when he saw Nathaniel wasn't laughing with him. "Seriously, Nate, what the fuck? How are you still alive? You look like you haven't aged a damn day!"

"Vault-Tec," Nathaniel snarled, as if the name itself was some foul poison on his tongue. "They thought they could freeze the Devil underground. Instead they just pissed me off."

Cait frowned. This man, who had just killed every Raider in the Combat Zone, was a _Vault Dweller_? How did Tommy know him then?

"Ah shit," the ghoul sighed, knowing that he'd had over two centuries to numb himself to pre-War American corruption, but Nate's pedestal was just now getting broken with each dirty secret he found out about the country he loved. "You always had a blind spot on account o' yer patriotism, Nate."

"The Vaults were _lies_ , Tommy. All of them, nothing but government-sanctioned petri dishes where madmen tried to play God. Now my country is gone, Nora is gone, and some sick, bald bastard has kidnapped my son."

"No," Tommy moaned, "not Nora. Dammit, Nate, I _liked_ that woman. She was good people." Nathaniel accepted the condolences with a nod. "And you say Shaun was kidnapped, not killed?"

"I'll get him back." It wasn't an oath or a vow. It was a statement, as if he were declaring the obvious, like success was the only possible outcome. Because in Nate's mind, it truly was. "I'll get Shaun back," he said again, "but first, I'm going to hunt down the piece of shit that tore my family apart, and I'm going to kill him. Slowly." Again, it was a statement. No other possible outcome.

Meanwhile, all of Nate's talk of family and revenge was bringing back old and unpleasant memories that Cait would much rather stay buried and silent. She needed to drown them out, and for that, she needed crappy alcohol and a nice dose of psycho. Carefully, so as not to attract attention, the Irishwoman lifted a few doses off of the still-warm corpses that the Vault Dweller had actually bothered to kill with a gun. With a cursory inspection of the needle, Cait was seconds away from that sweet psycho haze she'd come to depend on when a powerful hand clamped down on her wrist. Startled, the redhead looked up to find Nate staring at her, his strong grip easily keeping the psycho syringe away from her arm.

"What the hell are ya doin'?" she cried.

"I was about to ask you the same thing!" Nate said evenly. He didn't sound angry, but he was definitely upset. Not that Cait cared, since she _was_ angry, but Nate kept talking anyway. "Forget for a moment that I watched good men reduced to bloodthirsty animals by this drug, or that the list of side effects stretches right out that damn door. You were about to take a dose for a man over twice your weight!" Ripping the psycho from her grasp, Nate looked over his shoulder at Tommy, who was still standing where they'd been talking when Cait had gone to retrieve the psycho. "No wonder Raiders are all fucking insane! They're dumping the entire hypo into their veins with every shot. Now their nervous systems' are shot and they're getting positive feedback from mindless violence!" Releasing Cait's arm, Nate smashed her psycho on the floor and spat in disgust.

"Damn you, General Chase," the soldier cursed his delusional and long-dead superior officer. "This one is on _your_ egotistical head."

Cait wasn't sure what just happened. Why was _he_ pissed? That was _her_ psycho, and…

And he knew where it came from, and what it did to people. Even when she'd been listening to Tommy and Nathaniel talk, it hadn't really sank in until that moment. This man, Nathaniel Reese, was from _before the damned War_. He said he'd watched good men reduced to animals by it, but what did that have to do with stopping her from using it herself? Not like she fit the definition of "good" anyway, and even if she did, what the hell difference would it make? Nobody had ever given a shite, and a man obsessed with finding a lost son wasn't going to be any different.

All the while, the gears were spinning in Tommy's head, though. He'd tried, oh had he tried, to clean the psycho addiction from his little bird. But even damaged and strung out, Cait had a stubborn fire in her, a flame burning inside that the Commonwealth couldn't snuff out with all its darkness.

The same fire that Nate had in his eyes when he ripped the psycho from her hands. _Nobody_ had managed that, and then in comes Nathaniel, killing every Raider in Tommy's establishment and then matching Cait's stubborn anger with his own.

It was a no-brainer. Like before the war, the answer to all immediate problems was a simple one: _Let Nate handle it_. Yeah, that just might work...

"Well Nate, since the patrons are too dead to support my little bird's chem habit," Tommy said casually, "and since you're the one who killed them, why don't you take over her contract for me?"

As Cait started arguing with Tommy, Dogmeat trotted up to Nathaniel and licked his bloodstained hand, the one that had taken and destroyed the psycho. It was like the German Shepherd was urging Nate to accept Tommy's offer. The Devil of Anchorage smiled at that thought. _"Mama Murphy was right about this dog. He is special."_

* * *

 _Two Hours Later_

With Dogmeat trotting alongside him, Nathaniel Reese grinned at the shotgun-toting redhead as she stomped ahead of him out the Combat Zone. He enjoyed a short rest on one of the less pungent bedrolls, as well as a quick meal that Tommy insisted on sharing "for old times' sake". Now, it was time to go find Nick Valentine, a task hopefully made easier by the added muscle Cait would provide. She had zero appreciation for the concept of stealth, but that was no problem. Any attention Cait drew to herself was attention drawn away from the soldier.

As if the Irishwoman somehow could tell his thoughts had shifted to her, Cait spun around and folded her arms across her chest, leveling a glare at Nate.

"We'd move faster if you kept your eyes on the road and off me arse!"

* * *

 **I'm too tired to give a post-chapter commentary, so I'll just say see you all next time. And until then…**

 **Read, Review, and Enjoy!**


	4. Make Way for Mutants?

**And we're back here again, yeah? Another chapter here, followed (relatively) soon by another chapter for** _ **Supernovas of Mass Effect: One Way Flight**_ **. No promises of course, but hey, it's been that pattern a couple of times now hasn't it?**

 **Anyway, you guys know the rules from now on. Leave a review for this story only. If it's about my Supernovas multiverse, put it over there. Now that we understand one another, let's get this show on the road.**

 **I would like to take a moment to thank my friend Powerslammer for helping me with certain parts of this chapter, as well as certain parts of Nathaniel's character. Your idea was fantastic, and I hope I did it proper justice.**

 **This is normally where I respond to guest reviews, but because there are no new guest reviews, we get to skip that and dive straight into the story. Enjoy everybody!**

 **Summary: Nate, Cait and Dogmeat run into a problem during their search for Nick Valentine. A very** _ **large**_ **problem…**

 **Spoilers: I guess you could say it hints at spoilers for certain discoveries regarding the Institute, but it's barely an implication. Plus it's not even a spoiler at this point unless you've somehow gone this long without completing the main quest at least once.**

 **Disclaimer: Bethesda owns the** _ **Fallout**_ **franchise. This shit ain't mine, so go sue someone else.**

 **Content Warning: Addictive drugs mentioned heavily throughout this chapter, and there is one reference to sexual assault. It _is_ a Fallout story. **

* * *

Make Way for… Mutants?

 _Commonwealth, 2287  
Boston Commons: Boston Public Garden_

"So tell me this then soldier-man," Cait asked, bored to tears after following Nate for over three hours in complete silence. "How come you got such a stick up yer arse about using psycho? You one of them goody two-shoes that thinks livin' a little is livin' in sin?"

"Because I was alive when they first began distributing that shit," Nate answered disdainfully. "General Chase ordered his own pharmaceutical research company to start mass producing that poison, and our own doctors at Anchorage willingly force fed it to the troops in some half-baked attempt to make them better soldiers. Worse, they gave it to the _wounded_ and the _shell-shocked_ purely for the sake of getting them back out in the field, consequences be damned. All that did was turn good, proud men into insane killers, no different from rabid dogs to be put down." He stopped and turned his head to briefly glare at Cait over his shoulder, blue eyes angry and intense. "So you'll have to forgive me if I'm a little apprehensive about a crime against my brothers in arms now getting treated as a pick-me-up like it's no different than coffee." With that, he resumed his trek towards what was left of Park Street Station.

"Well, to be perfectly fair, psycho's easier to come by than coffee." Cait mumbled as she followed him, only to realize he'd come to a dead halt once more. "Hey what the-"

Nate cut her off by raising his off-hand in a clenched fist, using his dominant hand to keep his Makarov trained on a heavily irradiated lake directly in front of them. Slowly, noiselessly, he backed away, motioning for Cait and Dogmeat to do the same. After a full minute of backpedaling, he finally lowered his gun and sighed in relief.

"Aww," Cait cooed sarcastically. "Was the big bad killer afraid of some dirty water?"

Dogmeat rested his head on the ground and placed a paw over his eyes, giving the canine equivalent of a facepalm.

"Did you completely miss the signs while watching _my_ ass?" Nathaniel asked. Still keeping his gaze on the direction they'd come from, he never saw the guilty tinge of pink suddenly coloring the Irishwoman's cheeks. Of course she was watching. She'd have to be _blind_ not to be watching that ass! Cait was tragically drawn from her less-than-innocent thoughts when the owner of said ass spoke again.

"That pond was surrounded by warning signs, mangled corpses, I caught sight of air bubbles breaking the water's surface, and what silhouette I could make out was fucking enormous. There's something in there, and it's _very_ big. Likely some oversized version of these 'super mutants' freaks. No way we're taking that head-on."

"So yer runnin' away?" Cait pouted, unimpressed. Could this really be the same walking slaughterhouse from the Combat Zone? "Yer not even gonna _try_ killin' the damned thing? I thought you were some kinda war hero?"

Dogmeat placed his other paw on top of the first one and whimpered slightly, as if to say _"here we go."_

Nathaniel reached into his duffel, pulled out a handful of stimpacks, and offered them to Cait. "You wanna run in guns blazing with a few of these and just hope for the best? That's how 'heroes' get themselves killed every time. I was _not_ a hero. I was a monster, a _devil_ , because that's what it took to keep my family and my country safe."

Cait's eyes narrowed. "That's some mighty fine hypocrisy ya got there. Spittin' on psycho while actin' like yer somethin' worse."

The icy intensity in Nathaniel's blue eyes sent a shiver down the redhead's spine. "I _was_ something worse, Cait. Much worse, actually, but _only_ to my enemies. And I didn't need some drug to manage it either."

When she heard this, Cait could only gawk at the man in front of her. It wasn't just what he was saying, but _how_ he was saying it that got to her. Like no matter how bad someone was, Nathaniel would be twice as bad to rip them apart and protect his own.

The Irishwoman was still trying to process this revelation when Nate began walking again… _away_ from the pond and his ultimate destination. "Hey, where ya goin' now?" Cait asked, rushing to catch back up.

"I've got a plan to take that thing down, but we're gonna need some supplies," Nate explained. Cait was listening, but Dogmeat was paying full attention. The canine _loved_ fetching things. "Raiders would've taken anything combat-worthy for miles, but firepower's not what I'm looking for. First, I need some long metal bars. Pipes, poles, even rebar works if it's long enough for my purposes."

"Tryin' to compensate for somethin' with all those long, hard rods?" Cait teased, earning a chuckle from Nate.

"My wife became pregnant with Shaun the last time we were in this park." Nate cocked his head to the side and smirked at the redhead. "Make of that what you will." Cait returned his smirk with her own before they got back to business. "Second thing we'll need is a shitload flammable liquid. Oil, gas, turpentine, if it lights up instantly, it's what we want."

"Junk like that's always left lyin' about. Shouldn't be too hard to find what ya need." With that, the trio set to searching.

* * *

 _Several Hours Later_

Cait was right. The stuff _was_ just lying around everywhere. Two hundred years old, but still flammable. Stacking up the various incendiary liquids for later use, Nathaniel and his Irish companion went to work filing the metal poles and bars they'd scavenged into long, sharp spikes. When they finished that task, they took the spikes and headed back towards the pond where they would set up Nathaniel's trap less than a block away from the monster's watery den.

Nate had just put their supplies down at what he considered the best spot for his trap when Dogmeat went crazy, practically tugging his human into a nearby alleyway. "What the hell is it this time? I swear if it's another building full of Raiders, I'm gonna-"

The soldier's complaints died on his lips when he saw what Dogmeat had found half-buried in the rubble. "Well I'll be damned." He knelt down to scratch the German Shepherd behind the ears. "How the flying fuck do you _do_ that, boy?" Dogmeat just panted happily and licked his human's face. "Yeah, I get it, you're awesome. If it works without blowing my ass sky high, then you're a miracle mutt." The canine snorted at that, but neither man nor man's best friend could keep from grinning at all the possibilities.

After retrieving his prize and confirming that it was somehow still in working order – though in need of a few repairs sooner than later – Nate and Cait turned all their focus to completing the trap. They worked well past midnight, relying on the light of Nathaniel's Pip-Boy to see what they were doing. When the trap was finally ready, it was less than an hour until sunrise. Just enough time for a quick rest.

"I'll take first watch," Nate offered. "You sleep."

Cait warily eyed the mattress they'd found along with the rest of the supplies. She may have watched him kill those Raiders at the Combat Zone, but old habits die hard. Awake and in the ring, she was unbeatable, but the moment she let her guard down, well… Raiders weren't the "gentle" type to put it lightly. For years now, she'd managed to keep them – mostly – at bay with the caps she made kicking their asses in the Zone, paying them to leave her alone while she slept.

They didn't always hold up their end of the bargain.

She was shaken from her memories by a firm hand on her shoulder. It was the same hand that had taken away her psycho almost a day ago, but the grip wasn't nearly as forceful this time.

"Get some sleep Cait," Nathaniel said a second time. "I've got your back."

So few words, and yet they meant so much. Nate wouldn't touch her while she slept, and he'd destroy anyone who tried. And as the fear retreated back to the darker corners of her mind, Cait realized just how exhausted she was. Not just from their walking and building the trap either. It was like all the years she'd spent watching her own back had caught up with her in that one moment, now that someone else was there to do it for her, asking for nothing beyond the promise that she'd do the same for him.

"You always know just what a girl wants to hear," Cait yawned. "Fine, but only because I'm too tired to argue after helpin' ya build that trap of yours." Smiling as she curled up on the mattress, the Irishwoman couldn't help but enjoy the warm feeling of safety Nate's presence gave her. It was like nothing in the whole damn Commonwealth could touch her, or even come close, unless he actively allowed it.

It was nice.

And while her head told her the man was a naïve Vault Dweller with values that didn't exist anymore, a tiny part of her heart wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that his values _did_ still exist and that the crap he preached about loyalty and protection and defending his own was _real_.

Because she needed something to believe in now more than ever.

* * *

 _Commonwealth: Swan's Pond  
Next Morning_

Looking down at the pond where his giant adversary slept, Nathaniel drew his Makarov and fired off a couple rounds into the water. "Hey! I would've been your daddy, but a gorilla beat me up the stairs!" His goal was to piss the thing off, get it angry enough to chase him outside its nice little watery den.

It worked too well, especially when Nathaniel saw _exactly_ what he'd woken up. Of course, he'd suspected it was an oversized super mutant based off of the shape of its underwater outline, but he misjudged its dimensions by a fairly large margin. "Big" didn't even begin to describe this enormous green monstrosity, its three-story mass covered in welts, muscles, _more_ muscles, and pieces of the pre-War _Swan Boats_ of all things. Catching sight of the human that had woken it up, the creature let out a roar that they could hear back in Diamond City and stomped out of the pond with enough force to generate a small tidal wave.

"Oh _fuck_ me!" Nathaniel yelled as he beat a hasty retreat.

If the pre-War soldier had been on foot, Swan the Super Mutant Behemoth would have easily overtaken and (most likely) eaten him. However, thanks to the "toy" Dogmeat had found earlier, Nate _wasn't_ on foot.

He was on a _motorcycle_. An actual functioning motorcycle. How that dog managed to find shit like this, nobody would ever know.

Kicking the old (yet still-working) bike into high gear, Nathaniel just managed to stay out of the behemoth's grasp. He wouldn't stay ahead for long, but he didn't have to. He just needed to lead it in the proper direction.

Angry both at the puny thing for waking it up and going so fast, not to mention making so much _noise_ with that metal thing it was sitting on, Swan was more than willing to pursue, not ever stopping to think how far it was going away from its pond.

"Catch me if you can bitch!" Nathaniel yelled as he drove the motorcycle up a makeshift ramp and onto the second floor of what _appeared_ to be just another random ruined building.

Seeing its prey was trapped now, Swan charged in for the kill, smashing right through the wall to crush the puny human behind it…

Only to run straight into a wall of long, sharp pikes. With all its weight and momentum rushing Swan forward, the behemoth was impaled on the array of crude metal spikes like a giant green pincushion, some of them actually protruding from the monster's back. Howling in agony with over a dozen metal spears tearing into its body, only then did Swan catch sight of all the now-empty containers scattered around its feet inside the building. More than a few of them have labels saying "Caution: Highly Flammable!"

And that was when Cait whistled at Swan from her perch behind the wall of spikes. Shooting the behemoth a nasty grin as Nathaniel pulled up by her side, she lit a match on the front tire of his motorcycle and dropped it onto the ground beneath Swan's feet, all of which was soaked in the gas, oil, and turpentine, just like the spikes themselves. In seconds, the whole building was on fire, and Swan, unable to pull its bulk off the spikes, let alone stop the blood loss those spikes had caused, was trapped. It could do nothing but scream in agony as the two humans drove through the second story window on the motorcycle, leaving it there to cook like a shish kebab on flambé.

The last thing Swan saw was the pair of grenades drop onto the burning floor without any pins…

Cait screamed as she felt the wind whip past her. "Crazy bastard!" she yelled over the roar of the motorcycle's engine and the frag grenades exploding behind her. "Yer gonna blow us both to hell!" She refused to even _consider_ how much she was secretly enjoying the feel of her hands around his waist as he drove them safely out of the inferno they'd just created. _"Damn he's in mighty fine shape!"_ she thought.

Her hands might have drifted lower than the waist, but she never got the chance before Nathaniel swerved to a stop and parked the bike like he'd done it a thousand times. Hell, he probably had, but before the bombs dropped, it wasn't as impressive a concept.

"This thing needs some serious repair, but we're safe for now. Good thing motorcycles never got to the nuclear-powered stage like most of the cars, or we _would_ have exploded. Instead, our biggest risk at the moment is running out of fuel. I'll find some way to get it back to that Red Rocket truck stop near Sanctuary, or maybe Diamond City since that's where we'll be going once we pull Nick Valentine's ass out of whatever's keeping him down there." Nate nodded towards the entrance to the Park Street station, now far safer to approach without the massive-ass behemoth covered in swan boats hiding right next to the door. "Dogmeat," he ordered while walking the motorcycle out of plain sight to hide it from any would-be lucky raiders, "stay and watch the bike while Cait and I find our good Detective."

The dog cocked his head with a snort.

"Why you? Besides the fact that you found bike?" Another snort. "Okay, how about the fact that I can't drive a motorcycle into an _underground_ _metro station_ , and I'd really like to keep it when I get back out?" This time the reply was a whine. "Oh, come on! Just do me a solid and guard the thing, okay?"

"You do realize yer talkin' to a dog, right?" Cait asked with a shrug. "Just saying."

"No," Nate smirked, "the _dog_ is talking to _me_. Big difference." Dogmeat huffed, but sat by the motorcycle all the same, alert and already waiting his human's return.

"By the way," Cait asked as they walked down the stairs into Park Street Station. "Where'd you get that idea? Killin' that behemoth with spikes and an oil trap?"

" _The Art of War_ ," Nathaniel answered cryptically. "My sensei taught it to me before I even enlisted in the Army. Bullets are a useful tool, but they're hardly the key to victory. Like that behemoth. Its greatest strength has always been its size until we came along and used that against it." He smirked then. "Of course, it's good to have bullets too, especially when we can't go two blocks without some damn thing trying to kill and more than likely eat us."

"Damn right," Cait chuckled, smirking right back at him. Honestly, she didn't have a damn clue what he was talking about at all, and his answer only left her with more questions. "What the hell is a sensei? And what does art have to do with-mmph!?"

Hearing voices further down the metro tunnel, Nate pressed his middle and index fingers to her lips for silence. "How about this, we make it out of here alive, _and_ with Detective Valentine in one piece, I'll tell you just about anything you want to know about my personal life. Deal?"

Cait's eyes gleamed with mischief, and she made a playful, half-heared attempt at biting the finger Nate still had covering her mouth, forcing the pre-War soldier to pull his hand back on instinct. "Anything I want, huh? I'll be holdin' you to that." Pulling out her shotgun, she motioned for Nathaniel to take point as she covered his back. Nodding, he pulled out his Makarov and tanto dagger and began to creep down the ruined station's hallway like he'd done so many times through so many Chinese strongholds in Anchorage.

When he was far enough ahead that she was sure he wouldn't notice, Cait quickly snuck a syringe out of her pocket and gave herself a quick dose of psycho. The familiar rush was pure heaven, especially after so long without a fix.

Why then, if it was so fantastic, did she feel like shite for doing it? She never had before, so what was so different this time?

"Hallway clear," a familiar voice whispered from up ahead, cutting through her drug-induced haze like a knife. "Come on, let's go find Valentine."

 _That's_ what was different this time, Cait realized. She had one Nathaniel Reese watching her back, and she was _supposed_ to be watching his. Could she do that properly while she was high on psycho? Would he let her do it at all if he found out?

She wasn't sure which question scared her more, but she knew she couldn't tell him the truth now.

* * *

 **Yes, lots of talking and musings and probably not as much of a "fight" with Swan as you were expecting. That's because it was a trap, not a fight. No matter how badass, real humans don't run up to giant monsters yelling "1v1 me bro!" That's stupid and only works because of how stimpacks heal you in-game. Sure, your "health" is restored but what about the injuries? Any fight with Swan where you apply a stimpacks, you're basically trying to fix broken ribs and a collapsed lung with an injection. It doesn't work that way, I'm sorry. Without game mechanics to protect us, any human trying to solo a giant monster would just get squished.**

 **Now after that little rant about being realistic, you're probably thinking, "But Blindluck92! You gave Nathaniel a motorcycle in a world where all vehicles either explode, don't work, or both!" Yes I did, and there's precedent for it too. The** _ **Broken Steel**_ **DLC for** _ **Fallout 3**_ **has a daredevil's skeleton hanging from the ceiling in a metro, and it's implied that motorcycle-stunt-gone-wrong happened** _ **after**_ **the bombs dropped, which meant that the motorcycle itself was working post-War. Also, the** _ **Lonesome Road**_ **DLC for** _ **Fallout: New Vegas**_ **shows a motorcycle partially on one of the highways, with the assumed biker's skeleton lying next to it and one of the tires in the process of being replaced. Now in this case I** _ **might**_ **say it was pre-War, except that this is the fucking Divide where over a dozen ICBMs went off directly underground. No way the skeleton, the bike, the spare tire, the toolbox,** _ **and**_ **the dead guy's sleeping bag would all still be there if it happened before the bombs, let alone before the Courier accidentally set off** _ **more**_ **bombs prior to the events of** _ **New Vegas**_ **. At the very least, that bike would have fallen over, but no, it's all in (relatively) perfect condition, which is just not possible after that many nuclear explosions. If the motorcycle got a flat on the highway while an idiot was driving through the Divide and got himself eaten by the Deathclaws swarming all over that place, well that makes much more sense in my opinion.**

 **You may not agree with my logic, but Nathaniel's keeping the bike, so you can expect more of it in the future. You'll also get more Cait goodness in the next chapter when she reveals her skill with picking locks, and Nick Valentine will (finally) make his debut in this story.**

 **Finally, I've hinted at Nathaniel having a sensei twice now, and there's much more where that came from. He's an insanely good soldier for a reason, and his backstory will be revealed more and more over time. Until then, however…**

 **Read, Review, and Enjoy!**


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